


At the Price of Oblivion

by CaliahAndTauran



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Angst I guess, Non-rom, why cant i ever write anything light-hearted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 05:01:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9306452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaliahAndTauran/pseuds/CaliahAndTauran
Summary: “Be reasonable youngling. It will be just like a dreamless sleep. No more worries, no more cares. It won’t hurt even for a second.”“They need me to fight,” Equius tries, not yet ready to accept the price of the powers he didn’t even ask for. “You said I was powerful, I should help them.”“There is havoc to be wrought, but not by you child. This is your duty.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> This small one-shot started when I was reading up on god tier classes. One thing I read mentioned that heirs become their aspect. Sooo that's why this story now exists. And also because I really like Equius :')

He was wrapped in warmth Equius realized, as consciousness began to stir about his thinkpan. He curled tighter into himself, not ready to wake. Wakefulness seemed foreboding, and he was scared of what he’d find when he reached it. Coldness began seeping into his being with harsh awareness. He hadn’t even realized he’d been moving until whatever was surrounding him jerked to a halt and deposited him on the floor. 

Not yet, I’m not ready.

Equius crouched on the ground, the cold almost unbearable now. He could feel the last of his warmth swirl away with whatever had brought him to this place. With a sinking feeling of dread, he opened his eyes. 

He’d be lying if he said he’d seen something more beautiful than the sight around him. It was as dark as it had been with his eyes shut, the only difference being swirling lights and gauzy glowing material fluttering through the air. Equius hesitantly reached a hand out to stroke one of the lights. It split in half and floated meagerly away from his touch.

“Youngling.”

The voice startles him into a fighting stance, weight balanced and fists up. 

“There is no need for that. Your fight is over.”

The words are said in a voice not feminine nor masculine. It almost seems to resonate within Equius’s head, leaving behind faint memories. 

“I am dead,” Equius states tiredly. He knows it to be true and gramples to keep hold of a few fleeting memories. Honks. The sound of wood snapping. 

“Yes,” the bodiless voice says simply.   
“I should be in the dream bubbles, with the others. Why am I here?”

His voice is gravelly and he swallows hard. Equius is not afraid, he’s dead and has nothing left to fear. 

“The others belong in the dream bubbles. Not you.”

The glowing material and lights begin swirling and start taking form a few feet infront of Equius. He takes a step forward, anger pulsing. Of course he belongs in the dream bubbles, he belongs with his friends. He jerks to a halt however. The lights have gathered up into the figure of a troll, and as they slowly dim Nepeta appears before him. 

“You are an Heir of Void.”

His moirails mouth is moving but it’s not her voice. It’s the same as before and it’s just wrong, so he demands, “Stop.”

Nepeta bursts into hundreds of flickering lights, and Equius grits his teeth so hard it’s painful.

“I am no heir. I died before reaching godhood.”  
“Silly youngling, that’s not how the Game works,” the voice whispers in his ear. He stands ramrod straight, but refuses to feel unnerved by this being. He will not be intimidated. 

“I do not understand,” he says carefully. Equius will play along, but just for now.   
“Being an Heir of Void is coded into your being,” the voice whispers warmly. “It was always a part of you. A once false variable can be made true by reaching the god tier. It is simply an awakening.”

“You have explained nothing,” Equius growls. He’s becoming testy. He misses the warmth, and he misses his moirail. He just wants to go. 

“An heir can manipulate and become their aspects. You would have been very powerful if you had survived. Your godhood comes at the price of oblivion however. Surrender your existence to me.”  
“If I do not?”

The lights grow closer to each other, and dim once more. An old troll with towering horns looms above him. He is unmistakably Equius’s ancestor. He speaks, but it’s once again The Voice. 

“There is an order that needs to be kept. You cannot continue to exist, it will tear apart reality. So it has always been, so it shall always be.”

His fists are shaking but he is not afraid. 

“No.”

His ancestor’s whole form twists violently and surges at him. Equius is now face to face, no longer with Darkleer, but with a snarling Condescension. She jabs his chest so hard that dark blue blood wells up where her nails have pieced his shirt. It does not hurt. 

“Even in death you are making the wrong choices. If you hadn’t let the highblood kill you, both you and your moirail would be alive.” 

This hurts more than the cold, more than her claws, and more than the choice he’s about to make.

“You must sacrifice yourself. Everyone will perish if you do not. Nepeta. Aradia. Anyone you’ve ever cared about.”

Doubt rolls through his mind like a thick fog. Her Imperious Condescension suddenly shrinks, and a body with a white suit and cue ball head takes her place. 

“Be reasonable youngling. It will be just like a dreamless sleep. No more worries, no more cares. It won’t hurt even for a second.”  
“They need me to fight,” Equius tries, not yet ready to accept the price of the powers he didn’t even ask for. “You said I was powerful, I should help them.”  
“There is havoc to be wrought, but not by you child. This is your duty.”

There’s no escape. Equius knows he can’t leave, or change the voice’s mind. He hangs his head and asks one final question.

“What of alternate Equius’s? Do they all share my fate?”

The Voice laughs, a sound like music. 

“No. You are from the alpha timeline and therefore this is your burden to carry.”

A smile graces Equius’s face, crooked and broken teeth gleaming in the flickering lights. She’ll find another Equius. She won’t be alone.

He nods, and the cue ball man sinks into nothingness. 

“Equius Zahhak, at the price of oblivion will you save not only your friends, but the whole of this reality,” asks The Voice, once again bodiless. It sounds proud and briefly Equius wonders what it is. He doesn’t ask, instead he replies, “I will accept my burden and become the void.”

The floating lights dim and seem to get farther away. Memories start slipping from his mind, like water through fingers. Equius forgets what he was just talking to. He forgets his death, and then his own name. The last thing to vanish is a smiling olive blood. Then there is nothing.


End file.
